


Rebuilt

by Jessiikaa15



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anger, Blood, Competition, Dark, Gore, Harrymort Holiday Happenings, Hate, M/M, Slash, Violence, Yule, possessive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:59:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessiikaa15/pseuds/Jessiikaa15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry had wanted to spend the Yule holidays with the one he loved, but things involving Harry never go to plan. Written as a competition piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebuilt

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not J.K
> 
> Written in five hours, apologies for the bad writing :P
> 
> UnBeta'd
> 
> Competition piece,

_**Rebuilt,** _

It was a funny emotion, hate. It could make even the most rational of people do the most irrational things. And it didn't come in passing. No. It filled you up, bubbled and boiled until it consumed you. Then it was there forever. It was on your mind, it invaded your thoughts and it was on the tip on your tongue; you could even taste it. But what could be done such a thing? You could let it fester. Sit and stew inside, until it made you as bitter and vile as it was. Or you could release it. Push and mould it in to something that was deadly, and use it to better yourself, to let those who caused it in the first place to be very aware of what they had done.

Harry had thought he had known hate. He thought he understood exactly what it was, he thought he had grasped the intricacies of it and used it to help himself. He thought he hated the Dursleys. He would have grounds enough to do so, and nobody would really blame him after seeing exactly what they had done to him. He thought he hated Bellatrix Lestrange. She had killed the one person he had left of his actual family and then mocked him, really, it would be considered ordinary for him to hate her. He also thought he hated Voldemort. Hell, most people  _did_  hate the Dark Lord, so for him to hate the man was expected.

But he was wrong.

Oh, he was so wrong.

Whatever he was feeling back then was absolutely nothing to real hate. Real hatred, the heavy, thick, burning feeling made anything he felt before pale in comparison to what he felt these days. It coursed through his very veins, it was in the air that he breathed, it surrounded him, consumed him like nothing ever before. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes, it was astonishing that one could feel so much hated even after so much time. He thought it would pass. There would be no forgiveness, but there wouldn't be this overwhelming need to destroy. He would think it had passed before it would flare with a vengeance. There were… triggers, he supposed, sneering down at what lay, spread eagled, at his feet. He would reach a sense of calm and then those triggers would swoop in and be pulled, restarting the whole process again. Harry lashed out in anger, kicking the thing at his feet, making it whimper in pain. He was supposed to be somewhere right now, celebrating the Yuletime holiday and instead he was being made to deal with this.

"Shut it." Harry snapped, flicking his wand creating another slash wound, spilling fresh blood on to the white snow under foot. Well, it used to be white before he had arrived.

"H-Harry, please don't do this."

"I told you to be quite," He hissed. Harry crouched down, yanking back the long hair and looking in to pain filled eyes. "What's wrong, little girl? Isn't this what you wanted? All of my attention on you. You threw yourself at me tonight, saying I could do anything to you. Well here you have it."

"Y-you were supposed to l-love me."

"Love you? I cannot stand the sight of you. I loath the fact you even have to breathe my air." Harry sneered in disgust, "You and your lot took everything from me, you crushed me until I was nothing, beat me down and forced me in to an image that I never wanted. For two years I've burned, for two years all the pieces that were left of me had to be collected and put back together, and for two years I've made it perfectly clear that I wanted nothing to do with you. And yet you are still here."

"You d-don't understand."

"Oh I understand alright. You've been planning this for years, they all have. Ever since  _he_  came up with his clever plan, you were the first lot he came too, and you were oh  _so_  eager." Harry growled, "Lady Ginevra Potter, the girl that captured the heart of the saviour, the one he chose out of the all, and the one who would be granted to the secrets, the riches and the prestige gathered for marrying in to the house of Potter; even more so with the house of Black too."

"It wasn't like that." Ginny wailed, her voice hysterical.

"And when we were married, I would tragically die leaving everything to my loving wife and her family. A family that took me in and that I adored." Harry mocked, his voice dangerous, "No one would question it. Why would they? The Weasleys are light, so good and been friends with the saviour for so long. It would be only natural."

"No, you've got it wrong." She cried, "I love you." Harry laughed, it was high and it was cold.

"You  _love_ me?" He repeated, "You know nothing about love. Only greed, and envy. And I am done. I have held myself back, I've kept myself away, I've given you all so many warnings, and yet you still went too far."

"Please, Harry, please listen. You have to understand-,"

"No, you have to understand." Harry cut of harshly, "You dare approach me, after everything you have done, and after all the times I warned you, you still dared. Not only did you dare, you tried to kiss me. You disgust me."

"No, that's not true."

"You do. You are foul. You are vile. And I would not touch you even if you were the last person on this earth." Harry spat cruelly, "Besides, someone else already has that place in my life."

"What?" She gasped, "That's a lie!"

"You wish it was." Harry laughed, the same cold laugh again, "But all those pieces that you broke had to be put back together by someone, and he did do a very nice job, if I do say so."

" _He!_ "

"That's right. He. Right from the start, you never stood a chance."

"No no no no." She moaned, "Dumbledore told me, he  _promised_ me."

"And we reach the core of the problem." Harry snared, " _Dumbledore_  is the reason this is happening in the first place. But it doesn't matter, none of it matters. It's too late. It's over."

"W-what are you talking about?"

"You crossed the line, and you have to pay for that." Harry stated as he rose to his feet.

"Harry, please, I'm begging you."

"Beg all you want. It doesn't matter anymore." Harry said without emotion, "I'll see you in Hell, if I ever get there." Without further words, Harry slit her throat and let her bleed out. The red blood tainting the pure snow and seeping in to the frozen ground. With another flick of his wand, the body was alight with bright flames, casting more shadows in to the already flickering forest and reflecting in to burnished, uncovered emerald eyes.

"Take this sacrifice, Lady Magic, on my honour." Harry said softly, he closed his eyes and just allowed himself to feel as he spoke the rest of the Yuletime ritual. The flames reared up as he spoke the last line and the magic was heavy in the air, Harry knew the moment when he was no longer alone but he didn't move from the burning remains of Ginny Weasley.

"You missed the Yule feast and the burning of the log." A cool voice rippled over the flames.

"It is for a very valid reason." Harry replied.

"I feel the sacrifice." The voice said, "What happened for you to miss the hunt?"

"A line was crossed, my tolerance only goes so far." Harry answered, "Besides, the action was not just against me."

"Oh?" the voice was closer now, Harry could feel their body heat as well as their magic and he felt himself relaxing as strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back against a firm chest.

"Yes, the action, if successful, would have highly displeased you, and you know I don't like that." Harry said and he felt the body behind him tense.

"And just what,  _exactly_ , was this action?"

"She tried to kiss me." Harry whispered and a dangerous hiss escaped the one behind him. Harry found himself span around and he looked up in to furious flashing crimson eyes, the one feature remaining to identify the Dark Lord correctly. In the shadows the sharp jaw and defined cheekbones seemed like they could cut glass, shaped eyebrows were drawn in to a poisonous glare and pink lips were pulled back in silent snarl.

"She did what?" The Dark Lord demanded and Harry grimaced, looking away for a moment before focusing back on the red eyes.

"I didn't let it happen, of course. The very thought disgusts me. But even if it didn't, no one touches me except you." Harry murmured, and watched as the look of death he was receiving lessened to a look of incredible displeasure.

"You are mine, Harry. No one should even be thinking about touching you." The Dark Lord stated, keeping his voice low and calm with obvious effort.

"I know, Marvolo. I am yours." Harry agreed easily. The Dark Lord ran a hand softly across Harry's cheek and kissed the plump lips, slipping his tongue in and mapping out every section of his younger lovers mouth until Harry was breathless and clinging to him. The teen had a look of pure bliss on his face, his face completely open and relaxed and his eyes looking up at him with familiar love and adoration, and a beautiful smile to finish; it was a look Marvolo coveted. It was twisted in a way, how they came to be.

It wasn't supposed to end like this, but even the best laid plans get derailed; especially when they came to Harry Potter. He wouldn't change it, however. When the boy had come to him, those years ago, a wreck of himself, begging for him to end his life it was obvious he had been shattered. Marvolo could practically see the pieces on the ground and he couldn't miss a golden opportunity like that. Here was his nemesis, the light's hope, in front of him begging to be killed; he was perfect mouldable material. And so Marvolo had denied his request and rebuilt the teen from scratch. He fixed what had been broken, and then added more to it. The teen became dependant on him in the beginning, doing anything for a kind word, and it was only  _too_  easy for the Dark Lord to get exactly what he wanted.

He hadn't thought it would have been so easy, but the teen craved the affection like a drug. Of course, the flaw in his plan was that Marvolo never once took in to consideration what would happen if Harry actually took to the image the Dark Lord was trying to create. He had thought that once the teen was rebuilt he would settle in to the ranks, merely thankful that the Dark Lord had fixed him, but that wasn't even a possibility. He had sailed passed the ranks like they were insignificant bugs, and landed himself as the main focus of Marvolo's attention. Everything the teen did was like beauty in motion, the way he would wield his magic, or the way he would bitch and argue back and treat him like he was actually human; it captured Marvolo long before he realised.

And he didn't want to let that go, he didn't want Harry to fade in to the ranks and become another mask, and he didn't want anyone else touching him. The thought had sent him in a blind rage, he had stated to the teen, on no uncertain terms, that he belonged to him and if anyone else were to touch him they would die the most painful death he could give them. Harry had blinked a few times at that before smiling  _that_  smile and kissing his cheek, a soft ' _I wouldn't want anything else'_  passing his lips. From there it had been even simpler. Marvolo hated to admit it, he despised the very thought from time to time, but they were made for each other. Harry knew him better than anyone and the same could be said in reverse, they could read each other with a glance, and work around whatever hurdles might have arose together, quickly and efficiently.

When the elite had found out they had been surprised, but nothing was said, it might've had something to do with the death glare Marvolo was shooting them or the overly possessive arm that didn't leave Harry's waist from the moment they stepped in to the room. Either one, it gained the desired result. Harry fitted in well, and he hated sending him back to the castle, under the old fool's nose, but it had to be done. They would talk daily, Marvolo had given him an enchanted mirror to communicate and Harry said he found it comforting to hear his voice. He had broken all ties to his 'best friends' and nearly everyone else in the light, in fact, he didn't really speak to anyone. He said he didn't need to because he had Marvolo and that was enough. The light had hassled him, but Harry said he could handle it; Marvolo believed him but he was glad to have his teen back during the summer. Harry had told Dumbledore to take a long walk in to the forest and vanished, they wouldn't find him because he was no longer theirs to find, and Harry only had a year left. It seemed as if they were not backing off and couldn't take the hint. His teen was right, this had crossed a line.

"No matter, we shall celebrate Yule our own way." Marvolo decided and Harry lit up at the idea.

"Take me away from here." Harry said softly, looking up imploringly in to those red eyes. "Take me and hide me away for your eyes only if you so wish, as long as I am with you I do not care." It was the words he had been waiting to hear, he kissed his teen again and they vanished from the clearing, leaving the flames dying out over the ashes of the body. They landed in a low light room, a large bed being the most predominant feature. The Dark Lord began removing his teen's clothes, kissing while he did so and Harry whined at the slow pace, causing the Dark Lord to smirk. He trailed languid kisses down his neck and bit down to mark what was his, gained a pleased moan from Harry and making the teen clutch himself closer.

"Please," Harry gasped. His whole body burning like fire, a strong need awoken inside of him setting him alight.

"Say it again," Marvolo whispered against his neck after he had soothed the bite with his tongue.

"Marvolo, please," He groaned, pressing himself closer still and feeling the man's smirk stretch. Another whine escaped him as Marvolo pushed him back on to the bed and settled between his parted legs, he watched, with hooded eyes, as the man vanished the rest of their clothes and summoned a phial from the bedside table. The scent of strawberries filled his senses as Marvolo poured a generous amount of the oily liquid on to his fingers, he leaned down too capture Harry's lips in a searing kiss as he slid the first finger in. Harry automatically stiffened at the intrusion before relaxing in to the kiss he was given, adjusting to the feeling. A second finger was added, making a scissoring motion and brushing over a spot that had the teen gasping as pleasure shot through him, drowning out everything else. He couldn't help the hiss that escaped him when the third finger slid in and stretched his body, but the discomfort he felt was soon forgotten when that spot was hit again and his body lit on fire.

He whimpered at the loss as the fingers were pulled free, his hands clutching at the sheets beneath him in desperation. Marvolo did so very much like the image Harry presented and he loomed over him as he positioned himself at his teen's entrance. He pushed in to him in one swift motion, the twisted part of him relishing in the sharp keen of pain before he felt the need to sooth his teen with kisses. Harry stilled as the pain ripped up his back and it was only when it began to lessen did he roll his hips urging his lover to move, wanted to feel that pleasure too wash away the pain. Marvolo drew back and thrust back in again sharply, hitting his prostate making Harry arch up and cry out, he set a fast pace, his need to own being fuelled by the needy sounds pouring from Harry's throat. His movements forceful and dominant, claiming what was rightfully his with another sharp thrust in to the tight cavern of heat. Harry couldn't help but scream when he felt Marvolo's entire length pull back, only to slam in to his prostate making him see stars.

He was relentless in his thrusts, and Harry felt himself nearing the edge of his release. Marvolo changed angles, hitting that bundle of nerves repeatedly, wanting to hear that glorious sound from his teen again. Harry arched as Marvolo continued to pound in to him, his release hitting him like a train and his lover's name spilling from his lips like a blessing to the gods themselves. The wall of muscles constricted around him and Marvolo managed a few more thrusts before filling his lover with his seed before collapsing next to his teen and regaining his breath. He waved his hand to vanish the sticky mess they had created and he pulled Harry until the teen was all but draped over him, wrapping an arm securely around his waist as he pulled the covers over them and kissing the untameable dark head.

"Happy Yule, My Little One." He said, securing a silver ring, with an emerald surrounded by diamonds on to his teen's left hand. Harry gazed at the ring breathlessly, watching the stones glitter in the low light.

"Happy Yule, My Lord." Harry whispered in return.

"You'll be with me forever." Marvolo murmured, tracing absent patterns on Harry's hip. The teen shuddered at the feeling and curled himself closer to his older lover, tucking his head under his chin laying his hand over his heart.

"I wouldn't want anything else."


End file.
